Not Enough
by Author Incognito
Summary: John is gone for a few days and Dean doesn't eat.


**Author's Note- I tried to make everything in this fic medically accurate, but I'm not for sure that I got everything correct or not. So sorry about that.  
**

 **Also, I'm not really sure how I feel about this title, so that may or may not be changed in the future.**

 **Another thing, this is my first ever Supernatural fic, so it probably sucks.**

When John walks out the door that first day, Dean honestly thinks that things will be all right. That is until he looked at the food cupboards and the refrigerator and discovered that they had a lot less food than he had expected.

Swallowing hard, Dean looks around the kitchen, hoping that he will find something pertaining to food that he missed. But, no. It appears that that is all that they have. Not even enough to get by together for a few days.

"Dean! I'm hungry. Can I have something to eat?" Dean heard his nine-year-old brother call out from the living room.

"Yeah, hold on Sammy." Dean said, forgetting his worries. For now, at least.

* * *

Unfortunately, Dean was reminded of his worries once again just a few short hours later while he was lying down on the bed, trying to go to sleep.

"Hey, Dean?" Sam asked as he plopped down beside him, the old bed that he was laying on sagging from the combined weight of them both.

"Yeah?" He said, opening his eyes and turning his head toward his younger brother.

"How long do you think dad is going to be gone?" Sam cocked his head, his face full of worry.

Dean looked away, not wanting to see his brother look so troubled. "He said that he'd be gone for a few days. Possibly more. But don't worry, it's dad. He's going to be okay. Besides, Uncle Bobby's only a couple of hours away, so if anything happens to us we can call him. Not like anything is going to happen to us." He added after seeing that the look on Sam's face didn't go away.

"Are you sure?"

"I'm sure. Now go to sleep." Dean said, burying his face into his pillow.

"Okay." Sam said, and Dean felt him rise up from the bed a few seconds after.

Dean moved his head to see Sam climb into the bed beside of him. He wasn't going to admit it, but no matter what he told Sam, he was worried that they wouldn't be okay at all. The small amount of food in the kitchen was evidence of that. _Well_ , Dean thought rolling over, _no matter what happens I'm not going to let anything happen to Sammy. I just can't._

* * *

"Here you go." Dean said, handing Sam a plateful of bacon and eggs.

"Thanks." Sam said, and immediately started to devour the food that was placed before him. "Hey, what are you going to eat?"

"I already ate." Dean lied, trying to cover up the sound of his stomach growling.

"Oh. What did you eat?" Sam said.

"Eggs." Dean said, walking away from his brother and into the living room. He sat down on the couch, hoping a bit of television would distract him. It didn't. In fact, it only made him feel worse worse. It seemed that the only things on were cooking shows and the likes, which certainly didn't help with how hungry he was at the moment.

Groaning, he turned the television back off. No point in watching it if it kept showing the one thing that he couldn't have at the moment.

He laid down, placing his hands behind his head. He hoped that John would come back soon, because he didn't know if he and Sam could hold out together for more than a few days.

Maybe they didn't have to. After all, as long as Dean made sure that Sam was all right, he didn't really care what happened to him. He had to watch out for his brother. He was his priority.

Dean heard footsteps coming from behind him, and automatically sat up to allow Sam some room on the couch. "Hey, Sammy. You're done eating all ready?" He said as Sam sat down beside of him and started looking for the remote.

"Yeah." Sam said as he found it.

"You know there's really no point in turning the T.V. on." Dean told Sam. "I looked and there's like nothing on."

"Well just because there's nothing on that you like doesn't mean that there isn't something on that I like." Sam said, turning the television back on and crossing his legs.

"Okay, don't say that I didn't warn you." Dean laid back against the couch and closed his eyes, trying to ignore how hungry he felt at the moment.

He opened his eyes sometime later, not even realizing that he had fallen asleep. He tried to get up but soon realized that there was a weight against his chest. He looked down and saw that Sam was leaning against him as he watched some cartoon on the television. "Dude, I'm not your freakin pillow." Dean said shoving his brother out of the way so that he could get up.

"Oh, sorry, Dean. I guess I just got a little tired." Sam said.

"Yeah. Hey, how long was I asleep?" Dean asked, rubbing his eyes.

"Hmm, about three and half hours." Sam said, looking at the clock on the wall.

"Right, well, I'm gonna go and get me something to drink." Dean said, walking back towards the kitchen.

"Okay, you do that."

Once he was in the kitchen, he grabbed a glass from the counter and got himself a drink of water from the sink. He leaned against the table, staring out at the kids playing in their yards across the street. He glared as he watched, betting that they didn't have to worry about things like food. He wished that he could go and across the street and just ask for some food, but he knew that that would be an extremely bad idea. After all, growing up with a father that hunted monsters for a living kind of made him skeptical about going into a strangers house and asking for something to eat.

God, he wished that John would hurry up and come home soon.

* * *

Dean was lying down on his bed. Trying to think of anything else but food. That seemed to work for a few minutes, but with hunger pains building up in his stomach, that made it harder with each passing minute.

To tell the truth, he hadn't thought about this when he had made the decision to give all of the food to Sam. He hadn't thought about feeling constantly tired. He hadn't thought about the itchy rashes that seemed to appear on his skin out of nowhere.

Still, he felt that whatever was going on with him right now would be worth it in the end. As long as Sam didn't go hungry, everything would be all right.

 _But I wanna eat so damn bad_ , Dean thought as he felt tears start to well up in his eyes.

* * *

"You cheated." Sam said to Dean, glaring at him across the game of checkers that they were currently playing on the kitchen table.

A few days had passed since John had first left, and they had found a few board games in the basement a couple of hours ago. Which they now used to pass the time as they waited for their father to return.

"What! No I didn't!" Dean said.

"Yeah, you did. You can't move a piece backwards if it's not a king." Sam said, pointing at the black checker that Dean had just moved a few seconds previously.

"Nope. Now give me back my checkers." Sam said, holding his hand out.

Sighing, Dean gave him back the three game pieces that he had took. As he waited for Sam to put the checkers back in order, he clutched at his stomach, wishing that the constant pain that he was feeling would go away.

"Okay," Sam said once he had got everything back into place. "Try not to cheat again."

"But what if you're being really annoying?" Dean asked, wishing that his head would stop spinning.

"Uh, no." Sam said whilst moving one of his pieces and taking a black checker from Dean. "Hey, are you okay?" Sam asked, seeing his brother start to blink rapidly.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Why wouldn't I be?" Dean stammered out as he felt his world tilt sideways.

The last thing that he heard before losing consciousness completely was his brother yelling his name.

* * *

When Dean woke up again he was in an unfamiliar place. It was ,well, white mostly. White bed, white ceiling, white walls. He would have bet anything that the floor beneath him was white as well.

Moaning, he sat up, feeling a slight tug on his wrist as he did so. Looking down, he saw something attached to his wrist that snaked its way towards an IV pole that stood beside of his bed. Rolling his eyes, he started to pull it out, but was stopped by a hand catching his arm before he could do so. "I wouldn't do that if I were you." A voice said and when Dean looked over he saw his father sitting next to him.

"Dad?' Dean said softly as he looked over to the next seat where he saw that Sam was fast asleep under a pile of blankets. "Urgh." He put his face in his hands. "What the hell happened?"

"I was hoping that you would explain that." John said, glaring at his eldest son.

"What? I don't-" Dean started to say, but was soon interrupted by his father.

"I want you to explain why I got a phone call from hospital saying that my son was brought in unconscious. I want you to explain why your brother -who was scared shitless by the way- had to call an ambulance on you. I want you to explain why when I got here, there were people from the Child Protective Services were waiting for me to get here."

Dean looked up, shocked by what his father had just said. "Child Protective Services. God, dad, I'm so sorry. I- I didn't think."

"That's obvious." John said. "They'll be in here in a few hours and they'll be asking you some questions. And I want you to tell them that whatever the hell happened back there, it was entirely your doing. Okay?"

Dean nodded, swallowing hard. "Okay, dad, I will."

"All right." John said as he glanced over at Sam. "At least Sammy is okay. When I got that phone call I was worried that something had happened to him."

"Yeah." Dean said, some of the guilt that he was currently experiencing go away with the knowledge that he had at least done something right. "At least he's all right."

"Well," John said, standing up. "I'm going to go and get something to eat. I haven't ate since I first got here last night."

"Okay." Dean said as he watched his father walk out of the door.


End file.
